So I was at a parent's meeting last week for parents of athletes are our school. I had just selected my team that afternoon and didn't anticipate many parents, but was surprised to see a handfull of them there. So after all the official stuff one of the parents came up to me and asked me what year my daughter was (as in, what year of hiiiiigh school). I told her that I didn't have a daughter and she insisted, no YOUR DAUGHTER, as if saying it louder and clearer was going to change the fact that I don't have any kids. I finally got the point across to her that I was not a mother and she explained that she knew that one of the coaches had a daughter at this school and I looked like the oldest of the three coaches. Um, HELLO. That is just not kind. And for the record, I'm the youngest coach! The one who's daughter is in 8th grade (which would've made me um 10 1/2 when I had her by the way) is 45 years old. Yea, um, no offense taken, just don't expect your daughter to get much playing time.

But with all things, there was a give and take.

10 minutes later I met with another parent who I didn't know was a parent. I knew we had at least one if not two sisters of players at the meeting so I assumed she was a sister. When she corrected me I embarrassed-ly blurted out, "Wow, you must have been 14 when you had her!" She looked at me and said, "No honey, I was 16."

I have witnessed something amazing. Did you know (I'm sure you didn't) that if you leave a pot of red beans (no rice) on the counter on a Tuesday night at around 8 and forget to refrigerate it, that by Thursday night, it will have mold growing? Yea, me neither. And not just a little mold either.

But the bigger miracle is that over the course of the past 2 days I was the ONLY person in this house capable of doing anything about it (granted The Fiance has yet to come home at all today, so it's not his fault). It's especially incredible when you take into account the fact that with friends who are staying for a few days that we currently have 5 people in this house.

I wonder how many people looked into the pot and thought to themselves, "I wonder if she's going to reheat these later?" and then put the lid on and left them there. I also wonder if I slipped and fell onto the floor and couldn't get up, how many days I'd suffer there before someone accidentally got caught tripping over me and had to help me up.

It's been a million minutes since New Orleans was devastated. One million minutes have passed since the storm that killed 1800 people passed over the Gulf of Mexico and hit land in the Gulf coast along Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama. One million minutes since families lost everything, since the people here lost their sense of normalcy.

I wrote about the anniversary of Katrina last year with a feeling of hope, of excitement for change, of dreams to do something big and make change happen. I did hope that this update would be filled with rainbows and butterflies, telling the story of the recovery of this city, it's not, but that's okay. It's not that there haven't been improvements in a year or that the recovery effort isn't well underway, because it is. Thanks to organizations and donations and the hard work of people here and all over the world, things have changed. Homes have been built, families have been reunited, businesses have been reopened. But what Katrina destroyed over the course of one or two days will take years, maybe even decades to repair, and that's a hard reality to come face to face with.

Homes still lie in ruin here, businesses still unopened, many lack rooves, walls and doors. Families are still living in FEMA trailers, waiting for contracters to come and do what needs to be done. People are still waiting in emergency rooms for hours on end without seeing doctors, and offices are horribly overcrowded. The tragedy of Katrina was not a one day affair, for some it will be a lifetime experience. For most a life-altering one. Things might not ever be the same here before. And I suppose it's ironic that I never got to see the city pre-Katrina, because I don't have a standard of comparison, but I do see the fire in the eyes of those trying to restore this city. I see the passion in the parents trying to get back into their homes. I see the love in the hearts of the children who are back at their normal schools. In that, there is great hope.

There are many people who say that this city shouldn't be rebuilt, that the fact that we're below sea level is enough to warrant throwing in the towel and walking away. Do not become one of those people. This is a home. This city takes in the lost, the homeless, the ragged, the rough, the loners, the groups- anyone and everyone. This city is all things to all people. Not necessarily all good things all the time, but you won't find that anywhere. It is a culture unto itself and to give up on it would be a tragic tragic mistake. We will rebuild this city, we will work until it is fixed and the bottom line is that you can be with us or against us, but either way, it's going to be done. Every house that is erected here is a new ray of hope. Every family with a moving van heading back to their home is a new start. Every day that we wake up and go to our jobs, whether they are blue collar, white collar, construction gloved or anything, getting up everyday and living life is proof that this city is alive and will survive.

And it has to. It has to for it's history and for it's future. For all people who have ever and will ever call this city home. For the people who've never been here but dream about it in brilliant shades of purple and yellow and green. For all those who have had faith and who have worked to get to where we are, here, one million minutes later. New Orleans is not gone. It is here and it will remain here as long as the people have faith, love and perseverance. Those three elements have preserved the city when it was nothing. When it fell apart at the seams they sewed it back together. When it literally burned to the ground, they built it up again. And when hope fell far below the city's altitude, people held strong and they believed.

Like last year, I want to leave you with a question. Last year I asked what you were going to do for this city, what you were going to do to save New Orleans. New Orleans is saved. It's not perfect and no one here will pretend it is. But today, 1 million minutes after Katrina, I ask each of you to look inside yourselves and ask, do you believe in this city? Do you believe in it's ability to rebuild? Do you believe in the ability of the people? Do you have faith in us and in our home? If you do, then spread the word. People have let New Orleans fall off the radar. We've become an afterthought. A news story. An annual update. But we are so much more and we still need so much more. Do not let the nay-sayers win, do not let your friends or family or co-workers give up on us. We're not done, we will not quit.

One million minutes have passed by, and we're still here, fighting, building, working and waiting. I have absolute faith that this city will be standing for millions and millions of minutes to come, probably much farther into the future than I can even imagine. I believe in my heart of hearts that New Orleans will someday rise above this tragedy to be what it was and more. Do you?

I'm getting ready to write an entry about the 2 year anniversary of Katrina (tomorrow) and I thought maybe I'd post what I wrote at my other site last year for those who didn't read it then or know nothing of my other site.

August 29, 2006

525,600 minutes.

1 year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 525,600 minutes. One year ago tonight, hurricane Katrina sat poised in the Gulf of Mexico, with eyes on New Orleans. Evacuations were ordered, warnings were issued, and then we waited.

You and I, we watched our television, we watched our computer screens and we were overjoyed at the news that the hurricane had weakened before landfall. New Orleanians watched the same news with bated breath, not knowing the fate of their homes, their lives.

At 9:38 am on August 29th, 2005, a levee in the area of Lakeview, Louisiana, burst. Not overflowed, burst. The suburb filled with families, business, schools, memories, was devastated. Levees conitnued to burst all around what was one of the United States' most historically rich cities.

We saw the images, we heard the stories, we knew it happened, but short of being here, it's hard to have any idea of what really happened. I don't claim to know. I probably won't ever, and I may be the better for it. In New Orleans proper, that's not including the suburbs, over 200,000 homes were destroyed. Add in the suburbs, the other Gulf Coast areas, and just imagine.

So now, one year older, one year wiser, what can be said of the once booming metropolis? Devastation still surrounds us. When I got lost last week, I saw homes, schools, buildings in shreds. I saw FEMA trailer after FEMA trailer. I saw people, working in their homes, homes that will not be liveable for months, maybe even years, maybe never. I saw the heartache in the faces of my students, I saw the determination in the faces of the homeowners and I think I truly saw the heart of this city. The people that make it what it is.

On this, the one year mark since the most devastating natural disaster in United States history, we have a few choices. We can turn a blind eye to what has happened. It's easy, and it's what is often done. We don't have to pay attention to what we can't see, simply put, ignorance is bliss. We can pound our fists and scream in anger at all the people who made mistakes. That, too, is an easy response and one we've definitely demonstrated. Or we can do what doesn't come quite as easily for some.

We can fall on our knees, give ourselves to God and ask for His continued presence. We can give thanks for what has regrown and regenerated in the last year, and pray for those people and places still waiting. We can reach out, we can donate, and we can CARE. Maybe if we get enough people to care, we can be a part of the difference. Maybe in a year, I'll have pictures to show you of the rebirth of this amazing city. Maybe in a year I'll have stories of the new lives of New Orleanians. Maybe in a year, we can look BACK at what happened, rather than looking directly at it. Maybe.

So, on this the one year anniversary of the most severe natural disaster in United States history, I ask you a question. What will YOU do? How will YOU help?

My answer to those questions remains uncertain. I am trepidatious about what tomorrow will bring. I am unsure of my role here, but I am here and I will be part of the future. I will donate, I will pray, if nothing else, there are 95 girls in this city that know that someone cares about what happens in their life and will fight, on bended knee in prayer, to try and make it better.

And here are a few photos. These are just a few of many and they do not show everything there is to see, so you have to imagine these pictures times 200,000 homes. And remember, these were taken a full year after Katrina hit. A year. 12 months post-Katrina.

I was reading over at Lanny's site (see the blogs on the right? She's on there, click and read) and found myself tagged to share my most embarrassing moment, which was actually exactly what I was planning on posting about anyway, so I figured, what the hell? 2 birds, 1 stone.

This particular instance was just last week and it may not actually be the most embarrassing moment ever, but it's high on my list, though this is one of the few where I didn't do anything stupid to cause the negative attention.

See, I teach the youngest grade at our school and each year that grade has an evening retreat where the students play games and their parents meet with the principal/president and discuss various things. After the meeting and game playing we come together for mass (yes, it is a parochial school, which narrows it down to, um, all the schools in this city) and this year they decided to introduce all the teachers to all the parents. So the president calls us down, and keep in mind this is my boss, she runs the school, she hired me, she's in charge.

She starts naming people as they walk across and on the person in front of me, she misspoke and called her the wrong name and then she got to me, and had this horrible look on her face. There was a moment of silence before she finally said, INTO THE MICROPHONE, "who are you?"

Nevermind that I've worked here for over a year and that all my students' parents are sitting out there, she did not know who I was and made no attempt to pretend like she did. One of the other teachesr turned around and told her my name and she says, "oh yea, Katie" as if there's no reason that it's important to say my name. All the other teachers got applause from the kids/parents, I got a half-assed introduction with no time for anyone to do anything other than gasp at the awkwardness. I wanted to crawl out of my skin, smother her to death and then die in a small hole.

Seriously, I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty pissed. Because I definitely wouldn't have stayed at work for 12 hours that day if she wasn't going to notice me let alone KNOW MY NAME even if she did realize I wasn't there. Who's she gonna fire for that?

p.s. did I mention they also forgot to make me a faculty ID card? No? Perhaps it's because I'm forgettable, I mean, because I forgot.

I'd like to say something witty about this but frankly, I think it says absolutely everything all on it's own. Except that maybe you should know that I look just like an Aye-aye every morning before I do my hair and put on makeup.

(and yes, I copied this link from dooce. But it just cracked me up. Literally, into hundreds of pieces, it's that good.)

I hate Tuesdays. There, I said it. I really just cannot stand Tuesdays, unless I'm on vacation. And then I love them for the exact same reasons that I hate them the rest of the time.

First, you're exhausted, because you were tired Monday from getting up early and then you had to get up early again. It's always more difficult to get up the second morning than the first, that's like a law, perhaps of physics, maybe it's chemistry. Probably chemistry.

Second, which is a similar point, but is not to be confused with point 1, you're not at all refreshed on Tuesdays. On Mondays you get up at the butt crack of dawn, but at the same time, you've just had 2 days of rest, on Tuesday, you get up and you've had no rest. Okay, so maybe that's the exact same point as point number one, but it's still important. Never underestimate the power of being rested.

Third, you wake up exhausted on Tuesday to the realization that there will be no rest, until FRIDAY. Which is still 4 full days ahead. It's like all hope that the week will ever end is gone because you're tired, usually grumpy (maybe that's just me) and you still have at least 3 1/2 days to navigate through. Tuesdays are an abyss of happiness. They're where happiness goes to die.

And if all of the other incredibly distinct and carefully articulated reasons weren't enough, starting a week from today, I have a lab every TUESDAY from 6-8:15pm. That's of course after work until 3:45 and after coaching sports until 5:59ish. Yes, I hate the Tuesdays almost as much as I hate the fact that as soon as I hit "publish post" I have to get back in my car and drive back to work.

Did I mention I hate Tuesdays? Because I do.

(and by the by, this is my 100th post! Woo hoo! It almost made my Tuesday a little better. Almost)

Lately there has been a surge in people sticking their feet in their mouth. Maybe it's because I've been reaching out a little more to different groups for help regarding my brain and headaches, or maybe it's just something in the water, but I worry about the education some people are receiving.

Ex. 1- I posted a message on a "pain management" board online. I prefaced the post with the description of my condition and what I had already tried and that surgery wasn't an option. This is a pretty busy board and I got one, and only one reply which said, "Katie, if you're having pressure headaches, why don't you have a shunt put in to relieve the pressure?" I don't even know where to start here. I get that the intention is somewhat good, but first, shunt surgery is A BIG DEAL. Not a little inconvenience, it's brain surgery. Second, I'm pretty sure it's not elective. I mean, it'd be great if I could just call up my neurologist and be like, hey, I think I'd like a shunt, you free at 4? I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but that's the pain management strategy? Oy, I think I'll keep my Opiates, thankyouverymuch.

Ex. 2- I was speaking to someone at work about the constant urinary tract infections I've had over the summer (they asked, I don't just go around whining about my health, though I'm beginning to see that it might seem that way.) She looked at me, in all seriousness and said, "well, have you been drinking cranberry juice?" When I told her I had and that it oddly didn't prevent the UTIs she said, "well, maybe you have cancer in your bladder or something." WHAT? I mean...WHAT? Why would that ever be the response to something like that? Was that supposed to be comforting? I do not have bladder cancer, I have chronic UTIs which are immune to the all curing power of cranberry juice.

Ex. 3- I was talking to a different co-worker about my brain (again, I swear I don't just whine about it all the time) and about how it is difficult to exercise (she's a phys ed teacher, so I was looking for tips) and she and I were brainstorming good exercises (I'm trying to tone, not really to lose weight). And all of a sudden she looks at me and says, "if you get hit in the back of the head with a ball, is it going to cause brain damage? Because if so, I don't want to work out with you." All I could do was laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh. Lest you wondered, no, hitting me in the back of the head with anything other than somthing like a bowling ball, will not cause brain damage. Though I do appreciate the concern.

Ex. 4- My mother. Oh, my mother. Someone told her that a yeast imbalace can cause problems systematically, which I'm sure is true (though as a rule, my mom believes all that crap- that the muscle stimulators sold online at 2 in the morning are effective. That sort of thing.) So I told her that I was looking into a neurosurgeon in Birmingham and her response was that I should really try these yeast pills. I tried to appease her and offered to go buy them, and I asked what they were. Her response was, "I dunno, I'm sure they sell them in the refrigerator section of Whole Foods." Okay, well, I'll get right on that because I'm sure that they will be labelled as "all-curing yeast pills" and that they will surely FORCE MY BRAIN BACK INTO MY SKULL and fix all my problems. It must be the yeast.

I'm not trying to discourage advice or seem ungrateful, really, I'm not, I so appreciate everyone's help. I'm just saying maybe we should spend some time working on the logic first. And of course, the yeast. I'm going to go find some refrigerated yeast and cranberry juice. I have full confidence that I'll be cured of all malladies in no time.

I have never supported anything quite like I've tried to support the rebuilding of New Orleans. I am so excited for all the new things opening up and the city coming back to life. God knows I'm giving my money to people here (quite happily...until I run out of it) and I try to be a part of the culture. I'm loving this place and everything coming back to life.

Except for the streetcars. Look, it's not that I don't think they'll be awesome, because I do, especially since I live very close to a stop. However, the number of accidents I'm going to be involved in with them is just going to be astronomical. I have been driving here for over a year without ever thinking twice about traffic ON the neutral ground, and all I can say is, I hope the driver of the street car has good reflexes, new breaks and a clean pair of underwear somewhere.

I was driving (read: speeding like a crazy person because I was running late) to a meeting at work and I was upset because I couldn't find my bottle of water. Considering that my urinary tract has all but given up the good fight in the past few months, water is pretty much my life.

After searching and searching for that stupid bottle of water I exclaimed in exasperation, "I just want some stupid water!"

Okay, maybe "stupid" wasn't the word that I used. Nevertheless, at that very instant, it started POURING outside. Which was awesome since I took my umbrella out of my car yesterday.

Today was a mediocre day by all standards, until I got home from work (at around 8pm).

I walked in the front door and smelled the delicious smells of someone cooking me dinner, and it was, by the way, was probably the best stir fry I've ever had. And then I noticed this HUGE box. See (note, this was taken with my camera, and I may have moved when I took it...)

And I never get packages. My roomate gets them constantly and I didn't even hardly stop to read it, except that I figured that if it belonged to someone else it wouldn't be sitting there anymore. AND I realized that it was from 1800flowers, and a small part of me yearned for it to have my name on it. And wouldn't you know it, it was addressed to ME. So I opened them...

And while he finished cooking I got them in a vase. All 12 of them with their beautiful loooooong stems...

Aside from the color distortion, aren't those just the purtiest flowers you've seen in a while? They smell heavenly and they're lighting up the room as I type this (and I'll see if I can't get a picture with a real camera soon).

And you may be thinking, Katie, why did he cook you dinner and buy you flowers? Not to worry, because I asked the same thing, because I did not remember. Last February The Fiance said that he wouldn't buy me flowers for Valentine's day, due to the price and lack of originality. I said something to the effect of, well, you should send me some 6 month later because I love roses. And well, today? It's August 14th.

and according to weather.com it already feels like it is 99 degrees outside. I have a feeling today is going to be the best possible day for picture day. I can see my hair really going for this. Especially by noon, when the heat index is up to 4 trillion degrees.

Okay, now I know I'm going to piss a number of you off with this post, but, well, I'm going to do it anyway, because I'm like that.

I believe that after giving birth you should be given a list of names, perhaps even a book, with a large number of gender specific names, all of which are spelled correctly. Because otherwise, when a teacher is given a roster for her 100+ students, she's going to think that all of you are freaking crazy.

I won't list any names because that's a little, what's the word? wrong? mean? Both? But seriously, some of y'all are crazy. First, you need not replace all the i's with y's in a name. THAT DOESN'T MAKE THE NAME ANY MORE CREATIVE OR ORIGINAL. Also, adding an accent when there's really no way to accent a particular letter? yea, that also won't make the name any more creative. And furthermore, why do you need a name to be creative, isn't that the job of the child's personality? My full name is Kathryn, which is the atypical spelling of that particular name and I've spent my whole life spelling my name for people and always wished I could just say my name and voila! it would be spelled right. But it never is. Don't do this to your child. Just don't. No, don't.

Oh, and giving a girl a boy's name? I'm not talking about the dual-gendered names like Taylor or Avery, those are fine, but names that are clearly boys names and are given to girls? See, you're just setting her up for a lot of being made fun of, or at least a lot of confusion.

I'm going to go start making up the list to provide to my local hospitals, I suggest you all go out and do the same.

My head hurts still and I'm tired of continuing to talk about it, so I'm posting one of those "filler" blogs where I just answer 50 questions I stole from someone else's blog. Read on if you so desire. You can even tag yourself and fill it out if you want. Knock yourself out.

1. What year was the best year of your life? Probably 2007. Most of it, so far, has been pretty rockin'2. One animal or insect that Noah should have left off the ark? Cockroaches3. Do you make a wish before blowing out your birthday candles? Yes. 4. Do you generally open your bills on the day that you receive them? Whoa, you get paper mail? 5. How many pillows are on your bed? Four.6. Favorite ice cream flavor? Chocolate chip, though to be honest, I'd rather just have a cookie. Or some cake.7. What is the most dominate color in your wardrobe? Black8. Have you ever seen a ghost? Um, no. And I don't believe in them either, so perhaps that's why.9. Would you rather go to a carnival or circus? I guess a carnival. Both of them make me kind of nervous. I'm always afraid I'm going to watch someone die in one of those shows. How about a Carnival cruise?10. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner? Dinner. 11. Your favorite fictional animal? The Smurfs (smurves?). Wait, are they animals?12. Have you ever flown first-class? Nope. I've also never flown unmedicated.13. Would you go on a reality show? Probably not. It would depend upon how much money and humiliation were involved.14. Are you more optimistic or pessimistic about the future? I'm an optimistic realist.15. Pancakes or waffles? Either, but neither with maple syrup.16. If you could own a home anywhere in the world, where would it be? By the ocean.17. Your favorite Soup of the Day? Tomato Basil from The Corner Bakery. In the bread bowl. Oh mama.18. What site is a must see for all visitors to your city? The French Quarter is the biggest tourist area, but the Zoo, the Aquarium, the really good sno ball place on Tchoupitoulas and the mall with the Ann Taylor by the river are all also hits.19. Can you recommend a good restaurant in your city? Can I ever! Fancy brunch- The Palace Cafe or Brennan's. Fancy dinner- Upperline, Le Crepe Nanou or Commanders Palace. Regular food- Felix's Oyster Bar, Crabby Jacks and Felipes, which I think is a chain, but is still really good.20. You go to the zoo; What is the one animal that you want to see? I like the small cute animals. Koalas. Penguins. Sea Otters. And any baby of any species. Anything I could snuggle with at night in bed. 21. Potatoes, rice, or pasta? All of them. I like mah carbs.22. What is the best movie that you’ve seen this year? While I know this will be unpopular, I really liked the latest Harry Potter. And yes, I've read the books too, I still liked it. And I haven't seen very many movies this year.23. One of your favorite books when you were a child? Babysitter's Little Sister series. Did I really just admit that?24. What in your life are you most grateful for? The Fiance.25. You are home alone and use the bathroom; do you close the door? Nope, but it's rare that I'm home alone.26. What is your favorite small appliance? Is the Kitchen Aid considered small? because I have two of them and I love them like a fat kid (or me) loves cake. 27. Salty snacks or sweet treats? Sweet, though you can't lose with a combo either28. Are you usually a little early, a little late, or right on time? I seem to be able to be really early or a little late, never on time.29. What is the most daring thing that you have ever done? Fall in love.30. Have you ever met someone famous? Several, but due to a confidentiality clause in my contracts I actually can't say most of them. I did meet Ray Romano at LAX due my listening to someone else's phone conversation and accidentally interrupting it and he happened to be on the other end of the line. It's a long and fairly embarrassing story. 31. What was one of your favorite movies as a child? The Last Unicorn. I don't know if this movie still exists, but as a child I insisted upon renting it all the time and I promised my mom each time I wouldn't cry at the end, especially since the end was actually happy and yet everytime I bawled like a baby.32. At what age have you looked your best? 4ish...33. One person that never fails to make you laugh? Matthew Perry.34. What was the first music that you ever bought? Um, Boyz 2 Men.35. If you could change one thing about your family life when you were a child, what would it be? It'd be awesome if my parents hadn't divorced, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be happy. I guess I'd probably just go back and beat the shit out of my sister once so that she wouldn't torment me for the rest of my life. I'm a pacifist like that.36. What is the one thing that you cook that always receives compliments? Cheesecake.37. From what news source do you receive the bulk of your news? cnn.com38. In the last calendar year, how many people have you told that you love them? Not including family and a whole bunch of 6 year old girls (at camp, get your mind out of the gutter you freaking perverts) just one. Well, 2 if you count the cat, but I think she's family.39. Who recieved your first kiss? My first boyfriend, his name was Matt. I think. 40. The single most important quality in a mate? This is difficult. Humor? Understanding? Compassion? That's 3, so I guess I don't really know. I've never seen it as one single quality, he's always had the whole package of good qualities.41. What do you value most in a relationship? Communication (The Fiance loves it too...heh). But seriously, I think the ability to share anything with someone and know that you won't be laughed at, or judged or mistreated for it.42. Do you believe that you have a soulmate? If yes, have you already met? I would like to think that there is and that I'm sitting right next to him right now.43. Do you consider yourself well organized? Obsessively compulsively so. Note, however, the difference between organized and clean, because they are quite different.44. On average, how many times a day do you look at yourself in the mirror? Everytime I go to the bathroom, which varies from like 5 to 35 times a day, depending upon the state of my urinary tract at the time.45. Did you ever make a prank phone call? Yep. 46. What one quality do you seek in a friend? Trust.47. Have you ever killed an animal? I've caught fish, but I've never killed a mammal that I'm aware of.48. When you were twelve years old, what did you want to be when you grew up? Hrm, I think a doctor, but that may have been my "actress" phase (you know you all went through it).49. Do you believe in a afterlife? Yep.50. What would you like to accomplish with the remaining years of your life? I would like to have a family, find a career that makes me happy, resolve a lot of personal chaos, to find a balance in my life where I can sit down after a long day and relax and not have a billion things screaming through my head. I'd like to do something that no one else has done, and I'd like to make at least one person's life better for my existence. Nothing major though.

I haven't talked much about life back in NOLA, and that's most because it's been a little crazy. The Fiance is now in the stage in medical school where he's in the hospital doing all the hands-on training, and through no fault of his, he had a crazy schedule. He has to be at the hospital at between 5:30 and 6 each morning, which means he gets up at 4:30 in the morning. I love him, but I do not get up to see him off. Somedays he's done moderately early (like by 5), others he's there until 7ish. And then, naturally, given the time he gets up, he's going to bed early. Then there's nights like tonight where he's on call and it really doesn't make any sense for him to come home at all, so he'll be at the hospital until after I leave for work tomorrow morning.

I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into what our future holds, and perhaps surprisingly, I'm pretty pleased. No, I don't enjoy him being gone or going to bed at 9:30, but I'm seeing a new side of us that I really like. See, here's the thing- his hours? they blow, pretty hard. My work right now? blows pretty hard too. Not seeing him at all like today? blows super hard. But, all that said, we're making it work. And yea, it's early and I'm being idyllic, but hell, that's a good thing.

Today, knowing that I wasn't going to get to see him, he called and we arranged dinner together at the hospital. It didn't work out like we'd planned because he had to scrub in for surgery, but I got to see his pretty blue eyes for 10 minutes and quickly talk about the highs and lows of the day and it was nice. And he made a big point to stress that tomorrow is a night for just us, and it just warms my heart to know that even though his life is currently a mess of surgery, vaginas (did I mention he's on OB right now?), rounds, etc., he's making time for us. It's just something that I didn't expect from him. Not that I didn't think he was capable, because he's pretty incredible, but it was so very sensitive and kind that it just made my otherwise crappy day, pretty darn good. If only he had a good cure for headaches, then there'd be no questions at all (joking of course...mostly).

Being married to a brilliant doctor won't be easy and it won't always be a ton of fun, but it is something we will make work because it's worth it. Because we're worth it.

I wanted to type something humorous, or at least interesting, but my head is killing me and my fingers are not cooperating with the thoughts in my head. So here's a joke instead, caution, swearing ahead, but it's not me, I copied and pasted it.

I awoke at 7:30 by alarm, because I really must get on this time zone. I was up until almost 1 last night for no reason other than that I just couldn't fall asleep. At 9:15, just before I left for my 9:30 haircut, I checked my bank balance because it's the end of the month for me and I was trying to determine which account to use. Much to my dismay, I was overdrawn by 53 dollars. OVERDRAWN. See, I deposited a big big chunk of money yesterday, big chunk, but I was careful not to take out more than the "available" amount. But this bank statement indicated that I had deposited the check and then withdrawn it later in the day, which, um, I did not.

So as I was driving to my haircut, I called the bank. I spoke with someone in God only knows what state or even country, who couldn't figure out what was going on. In the middle of trying to figure all that out, my call waiting came on and I ignored it, which proved to be a big error. Finally, at 9:29 I told the bank I'd call them back.

I walked in the salon at precisely 9:30, only to find out that my appointment was at 9. Though, it was their mistake because they sent an email with the wrong time on it. They scheduled me for someone else at 10, which was cutting it close for the 11:30 doctor's appointment. I waited in the salon for 30 minutes and first I called the bank back, only this time I called the branch I was having trouble with. It turns out my boss forgot to sign my check. What are the freaking chances? ARG. So I called my work and they're fed-exing a new check that is the original amount, plus the 53 dollars I overdrew my account by.

As soon as I hung up the phone with them, the pharmacy called. The med I wanted to refill was ready, but my insurance expired, and did I want to pay for it out of pocket? I inquired as to the cost of it and nearly threw up when they told me it would be NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Um, no, I'll go find my new insurance cards, thankyouverymuch.

So I got my haircut (a good cut, and she usually charges 55, but I got it for my regular price, 35, since it was the salon's fault), and got on the way to the doctor's appointment, with my new insurance cards. The doctor's appointment was a total joke. He didn't examine me, told me that my urinalysis was "mostly negative" which is interesting because you'd think after 5 days of 1000mg daily Cipro, it'd be all gone. But nevertheless he wrote me a new prescription and said, as usual, they'd do a culture, which if the Cipro is doing anything, will come back negative and then he'll chalk this up to another situation where I'm faking something for drugs. Because who doesn't like antibiotics that make you feel like your stomach is rotting and which keep you up all freaking night? Apparently not me.

Then I went to work, which was fine. Then to the pharmacy, where with my new insurance cards, I got my prescription for 5 dollars. Yep, you read that right, a 900 dollar prescription for 5 bucks. I know I'm lucky, but lest you're jealous, know that I pay a HUGE amount of money for my insurance because I'm not terribly insurable.

That was today in a nutshell. I'm still feeling like crap, I was able to transfer some money into my bank account so I now have 22 dollars at my disposal, I have prescriptions and I'm on the hunt for a new doctor. If you happen to live in the New Orleans area and have a primary care physician who actually speaks to you and examines you when you're ill, please please please either leave a comment here or email me here: kt.irvin@gmail.com because frankly, I need some help here before my kidneys really quit.

Tomorrow? Work from 8:30 to 3:30, SportthatImoderate Practice 3:45 to 5:45. Restful indeed.

Addendum: had big fight with sister. Un-invited her to the wedding and every other event in my life.

And you know how I'll enjoy that day off? Oh, let me just give you my vacation to-do list.

-call the doctor (because my kidneys have begun their revolt)-unpack (all my happy crap...)-laundry (where all my happy crap is going before it gets put away)-grocery store (because we literally have no food or beverages)-shopping (because I NEED a new outfit)-bank (deposit a check to pay off a teensy tiny fraction of my credit card bill)-bills/mail (I have a stack the size of, well a big stack of mail/bills)-call dr. t/appt/billing (this is a very very long story)-call apple (because my charger stopped working for no apparent reason)-activate WaMu check card (because I NEED another check card)

So those 31 hours are sure to be well spent, but it doesn't matter, I'm home in New Orleans, so I'll do it all with a big smile on my sweaty face.

I believe I've slipped into what must be one of the much later circles of hell. I know I exaggerate my fair share about the wonder that is SouthWestern Texas, but holy crap, this is not okay. After EIGHT HUNDRED miles of driving today (oddly that's not an exaggeration), I'm still about seven hundred miles from home, if you can believe that. But I'm getting closer, albeit very slowly.

But here's the current problem. It's not the dullness of the drive, or the boiling heat, or the fact that we had to stop for my poor bladder to spasm literally 13 times across Texas today, it's that the locust are here. The apocalypse has arrived.

I have an excerpt from the letter the hotel left us explaining the situation. I swear that I'm not making this up, except for the parts in parentheses, because those are my editor's notes.

"_______ County is giving the eighth plague a run for its money. An invasion of crickets (really? because they look an awful lot like their cousins, the COCKROACHES) has hit ________ with a vengeance, and local parking lots are turning into mass graves for armies of small, jumping insects..." Hi, um, kill me now, okay?

"...if the customers are staying out at night, they get attacked (ATTACKED? There was no better way to put that?). They come in rooms when door's [sic] are opened as guests enter and exit rooms. And they pile up on people's cars, since our parking lot is lit."

So yea. We've killed three of the cockroach/cricket spawn and there are oh, perhaps eight or nine trillion of them swarming outside our room. And oh, did I not mention the beetles? Because there's another letter here about an "invasion of harmless, though scary looking, black bettles." Did I mention that you can kill me now? Because you can.

But, there has been no lightning to speak of. Thank God for small miracles.

Today has been a particularly bad day for people in my area. No one is helping themselves much, and it seems as though everyone is unaware of their errors. So consider this an open letter to the people in Los Angeles.

1. If your sign says "open 8am-5pm" it indicates to people that you're open from 8 to 5. So if it really means 8 to when we decide to quit, that's very different and ought to be specified. I arrived promptly at 4:30 for an oil change and was told that the earliest I could get it done was tomorrow, which is mind boggling to me because I was there thirty minutes before the shop closed. Furthermore, the man had the audacity to lecture me on my plan to go to Jiffy Lube because he said you shouldn't go to that kind of place. Hi, um, you won't change my oil and therefore your opinion is officially null. Let me go throw my money at someone else.

2. If I say that I do not want you to change my air filters unless they're severely damaged and are directly responsible for blowing air that's going to damage my lungs, that does not give you license to replace ALL of them without asking. SERIOUSLY? Because I wanted to pay EIGHTY dollars to get my oil changed. Because that's totally reasonable.

3. If you are homeless and smell bad and are confined to a wheelchair and you want people's sympathy, flipping them off IS NOT THE WAY TO GET IT. It's just not. I'm sorry sir, I'm not going to give you money, not because I'm not sympathetic, but because you're an ass.

4. If you made a mistake and accidentally got in the left turn lane at a protected left turn light, the proper thing to do is NOT to block the intersection so that when the regular forward light turns green you can gun across the intersection while those of us behind you ARE FREAKING STUCK THERE. It's just not. You need to own up to your mistake if you wish to continue to be the be the proud owner of the back end of your car.

So perhaps I need anger management therapy, but I think I'll be fine when I leave here, which, did I mention? will be tomorrow? Oh I have mentioned that? Weird.

So I couldn't be happier to be headed home on Friday, but I find myself, all of a sudden in a whole new world. You see, unlike New Orleans, in Los Angeles, I have friends. Like lots of them. Which I've never had (I'm not trying to brag, I swear). I have so many that I'm having to rather frequently decide which ones to hang out with and I'm getting shit for not spending enough time with others. I've been in a lot of friend situations, but being in high demand has never been one of them.

It's not a bad thing, but I'm unsure of how to break these ties, seeing as how I've never really had any before. And there's a small part of me that really hopes that I've made a change that's going to make me suddenly a friend magnet when I get back to New Orleans (as opposed to a friend maggot, which is what I typed originally. Yay for proofreading). Perhaps it's the showering on a regular basis that has changed my friend-ability. Or brushing my teeth daily. Who knows?

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About Me

I'm a 26 year old former teacher turned full time graduate student. I live in Southern California after a 3 year stint in New Orleans with my husband Slappy (formerly The Fiance) and our cats (yea, we're those people).
In February of 2006 I was diagnosed with Chiari Malformation, which is a fancy way of saying that my brain was too big for my skull (get it? overflowing brain). On November 27th, 2007 I had brain surgery which allows my brain to exist indefinitely in my spinal canal. 13 staples, one cow heart lining and a multitude of doctors and medications later, I'm living a much improved decompressed life.